


Fragmented

by mywritingiswack



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Background Zaven, Bellarke, Canon Spec, F/M, background memori - Freeform, s6 spec
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-07-18 11:50:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16117844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywritingiswack/pseuds/mywritingiswack
Summary: Clarke almost dies. And when she wakes up, she doesn't remember anything about the entire time they were on the new planet. After all, she's only more broken. But maybe with her memories and Bellamy's help, she can become fragmented instead.





	1. Prologue

Bellamy held Clarke in his arms, blood staining his shirt and his yells for help reaching no one’s ears.

And Clarke could finally choke out, through her pain, “Bellamy.”

Bellamy’s cries quieted and he looked at Clarke, his entire body seeming to fade when Clarke rested her hand on Bellamy’s cheek.

“I’m going to die,” she whispered.

Bellamy shook his head, beginning to tell her he won’t let that happen. Not again.

And Clarke silenced him with five words.

“I’m in love with you.”

Bellamy’s heart only further tore open, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks as he rested his forehead on hers, pressing his lips gently against hers, so as to not steal her last breath.

When he pulled away, he told her, “I’m in love with you, too.”

As her breaths grew shallower and shallower and the light in her eyes was taken, Bellamy whispered, over and over again, “Please don’t leave me, Clarke.  _ Please _ . I can’t lose you.”

And then she was gone. And Bellamy was left clutching her body and it was as if he physically felt her soul tear itself from his, leaving only bits and pieces of his own in its wake.


	2. memories without

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke wakes up, her memories taken from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first real chapter, short, yes, but hopefully effectively kick-starting this fic!

Clarke’s eyes opened, heavy with something unlike anything she’d felt before.

Her head ached as she slowly got up, pain suddenly spreading from her back.

She felt someone lightly push her down as if indicating that she stay laying down.

Clarke saw Bellamy hovering over her, looking over her with fragility. She took a look around and realized that they were on the ground.

“Are-are we back on Earth? Did I get hurt during the descent or something?” Clarke strained to say, every word seeming to pound a nail into her brain.

Bellamy’s frown became deep-set as he looked at her, stroking her hair lightly and whispering, “You don’t remember?”

Clarke didn’t really think much of it. She didn’t really lose anything important, nor did she lose too much time.

She replied, “Last thing I remember is waking up from cryo, seeing you, and then...nothing.”

He visibly took a deep breath, his chest rising and sinking under the weight of gravity.

“We’ve been on the ground for six weeks, Clarke.”

Clarke thought he was joking, but the way his posture slowly sunk, she knew there was no way this was a trick.

She didn’t know what questions to ask first, how to react to any of this. There was no enemy she could fight, nothing she could…

“Tell me what I’m missing in my memory, Bellamy,” Clarke whispered, keeping her breaths small and controlled so she didn’t panic.

“Clarke I don’t think now is the right time. You’re hurt and-”

Clarke’s voice grew as she told him, “ _ Tell _ me.”

Bellamy sunk into his chair and averted his eyes, his voice raw as he began.

“We woke up from cryo. Just us. And we...then we met Jordan. Monty and Harper’s son.”

Bellamy’s eyes flickered up to hers, tears already beginning to form in both their eyes.

“They didn’t...they didn’t go into cryo with us?” Clarke choked out.

It was almost as if Bellamy couldn’t bear to answer, so instead, he knitted his hands together and continued, “He took us to the bridge, and he played us a video. Of Monty & Harper. Their life together on the ship. We were supposed to wake up after ten years. Jordan would’ve been eight.

But Earth couldn’t heal itself in that time. Earth couldn’t heal itself at all. So Monty worked for years to break the Eligius file so he could find a solution. That solution was a new planet.

But they put Jordan in cryo so he could see the new planet, and they...they grew old together.”

Bellamy’s voice broke at the last few words, and Clarke got up quickly, getting on her feet and rushing to the door.

But she was held captive by Bellamy’s voice calling her name.

“I can’t...I just need to....” Clarke muttered before finally stepping out onto Earth.

No. Not Earth. A new planet. And Clarke didn’t even know its name.

Clarke walked slowly towards the woods, her breaths increasingly shallow.

Every step she took, it was as if another strand of Clarke’s disbelief broke to be replaced with grief heavy as stone that refused to manifest itself into tears.

She finally came to a clearing, blood staining the soil, and Clarke wondered what the story behind that was.

Who was lost the day blood seeped into the ground and muddied the loam? How many deaths and losses had she missed in the six weeks she forgot?

She didn’t know what she was doing here anymore, as if she had some sort of purpose in the first place.

Clarke’s heart sank with the suns, the way she felt, however, in stark contrast with the way both sunsets played off of each other to create a beauty she could barely keep her eyes on.

She almost tore what she assumed were stitches when she felt someone tap her on the shoulder and she whipped around to see  _ Murphy. _

Stepping away, Clarke, her voice hoarse, asked, “What do you want?”

“You forgot,” Murphy stated as he studied her, and Clarke squirmed a little, suddenly impatient to leave whatever memories this place held.

She took the chance to step away, walking quickly through the nearly silent woods, but Murphy quickly fell into stride with her.

“You’re sharing a tent with Bellamy, just so you know. But I know since he told you about Harpe...them, then you might wanna take a break from...seeing him. So I talked to Raven & Emori and they’re fine with you crashing in their tent for the night if you want to.”

Clarke took a glance at Murphy, his face burdened with a weakness that seemed to have been revealed by the scars Monty & Harper’s deaths left. That, truthfully, their lives, spent without any of them, left.

“I think I’m good. But I’ll tell them that I’m thankful. I think I’ll just sleep in the infirmary for tonight,” Clarke muttered.

She barely noticed when Murphy fell out of step with her, retreating to his own tent.

Clarke stood in front of the door, reluctant to leave the steady beat of stillness that kept her stable and on her own two feet.

She stepped into the infirmary, not ready to really talk to anyone yet. Clarke didn’t even bother turning on the lights, she just slipped off her shoes before heading towards the bed.

Clarke froze when she saw Bellamy on the bed and somehow began moving in reverse when Bellamy stirred.

“Clarke? Here, I’ll move,” Bellamy murmured, his voice murky as he moved to get up.

She shook her head and whispered, “No, it’s fine. I know you’re not going back to your tent anyway, and I don’t want you sleeping on the chair. It’s impossibly bad for your back.”

Even in the dark, she felt his gaze on her as Clarke lied down on the bed, both of them separated by simply an inch.

A tense moment passed, Bellamy’s breaths nearly silent.

For some reason, this hurt Clarke, as if the mere fact that she had to strain to hear his breathing reminded her that no matter how much she strained, she would never be able to hear Monty & Harper breathing.

She tried to keep her sobs silent, but the moment Clarke moved to wipe away her tears, Bellamy’s arm looped around her waist, pulling her the short distance towards him.

He whispered something, but it didn’t reach her ears, so Clarke slowly turned so she was facing him, pushing away a little so she could see his face.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve been the one to come after you, but I thought you might not want to see me,” he mumbled, his voice as quiet as the wind’s soft tune.

Clarke wasn’t sure how to reply, so instead, she moved towards Bellamy, burying her face into his chest and trying to even out her fraying breaths.

She had the feeling that this had happened before, but when she reached for the memory, it took a step back, fading into a fog that she thought would never clear.

So she focused her attention on Bellamy instead. 

The way his breathing evened out slowly. The rise and fall of his chest slowed as the world around them continued. How, even when he shifted, he stayed as close to her as possible. His heart rate balancing out as sleep drew him in.

Clarke let the steady beat of stillness that Bellamy being here with her was keep her hope from unraveling into messy misery.

Letting one last tear slip loose, Clarke allowed herself the safe haven of dreams, shaded blue and gray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really needed to write Clarke finding out about Monty & Harper's deaths, so this is what you get. Not all the chapters will be this heavy, there are definitely some good memories that formed in the six weeks that Clarke forgot, and we're gonna start exploring those next chapter!


	3. hidden in fog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm a horrible person, oops? So here's a long chapter for you guys, you're welcome, I'm sorry again.

 

Clarke’s eyes opened, her dreams immediately disintegrating into fog. At first, she thought that everything that happened yesterday was a dream that would disappear as well, but the full weight of everything placed itself upon her shoulders, crushing her.

Her mind started to properly function again, and she noticed that Bellamy wasn’t in bed. Slowly getting up, she looked around the infirmary and let out a sigh when he walked in.

“Hey,” he muttered, keeping his gaze from meeting hers.

Clarke asked, “What’s wrong?”

Bellamy shook his head, muttering excuses as he went to go get bandages.

“Bellamy. What is wrong?” her voice was stronger this time, it didn’t waver like she was expecting it to.

He took a moment before replying, “Echo took prisoners. From the...from the people who were living here before.”

“She _what_?”

“She’s alienated them, put the treaty that was starting to form in danger, so now I have to convince Amber that Echo doesn’t speak for our people.”

Clarke was frozen in place, her mind trying to connect the name Amber to something. To _a_ _nything._

Her voice was a whisper when she replied, “I don't-I'm sorry. I want to help, but I don't even know who she is. Or...I guess I don't remember?”

She bit her lip to keep the tears from trailing down her cheeks, suddenly hit by that same feeling of helplessness and like she was more a liability than anything else, careful to keep her gaze to the ground so Bellamy didn't notice the way her face probably looked. Distressed.

She vaguely felt the way the ground shifted slightly under his feet as he walked, felt his thumb brush a stray tear from her cheek, felt his lips press gently against her forehead.

“All the help I need from you is for you to rest, okay?” he muttered, the way his lips brushed against her skin with every word distracting her from the actual sentence.

Clarke took a step back, nodding.

Distantly, she remembered Murphy mentioning something about her tent the night before, but really everything she remembered was contorted by a numbness, the only exceptions being when she was with Bellamy.

“Can you show me where my tent is? I just want to see if I can get situated before we start with the going-over-what-I've-forgotten stuff? Yesterday was...a lot. I think I just need the day to sort of breathe for a moment.”

A blush seemed to creep up Bellamy's face as he stammered, “Um, well, we were sharing a tent because there wasn't enough space and you don't have to stay with me anymore if you feel uncomfortable I completely understand and I can arrange for something else-”

“Bellamy, it's _fine._ I don't wanna be a burden. You don't have to do anything just for me. Plus, I'm fine staying with you.”

She didn't think much of it. Because if it didn't make Bellamy feel anything, why should it make her feel anything?

Bellamy looked at her for a moment, seeming to have his own internal war before one of the sides won out and he led her to her... _their_ tent.

She walked in behind him, not noticing anything particularly out of the ordinary because this looked exactly like her tent back when they first landed on the ground. And then she realized _why_ it looked exactly like it. There was only one bed.

She looked over at Bellamy to see if she could find an explanation written on his face, but instead, she found it in his words.

“There weren't enough beds to go around, and you had said that one bed for the both of us was fine. I can just sleep on the floor. I'm sorry. This must be so weird for you and all of this is probably making it worse and I am so so sor-”

Clarke shook her head. “We've all done too much apologizing. Go. Figure out whatever's going on. Don't let me hold you back.”

A sadness seemed to weigh on Bellamy’s back as she said those words, but he only nodded and headed back out, leaving Clarke to figure out what to do with the rest of her day.

 _Madi,_ her brain remembered.

Wandering out of the tent, she couldn’t help but catalog the placement of tents and any and all people she didn’t remember, even if she knew, or was told, it was safe.

“Clarke!” someone called from behind her.

She turned, on guard, only to see Emori with a huge smile on her face. She wrapped Clarke in a quick hug, not too tight, but no less genuine.

“You’re okay! I’m glad. You really scared us all for a bit there. Bellamy, mostly,” Emori added. She shot a knowing smile Clarke’s way as if there was a shared secret there.

Clarke asked, “Do you know where Madi is? I’ve been looking for her. I just…I need to make sure she’s okay.”

“Um...I think she’s with the other kids? You guys decided that she would stay with the kids so she could get acquainted and she wouldn’t feel like...well, a misfit.” Emori smiled a little ruefully at the word. “Don’t you...you don’t remember?”

“I lost my memory, yeah. I don’t remember anything after I woke up from cryo. Bellamy told me about Monty and Harper,” Clarke explained, internally flinching at their names.

Emori looked at her, sadness written on her face. “Well, let’s get you to Madi, then. She doesn’t know about you getting hurt. You can tell her if you want, but we didn’t want her worrying if we knew you were gonna get better. Let her be a kid, right?”

Clarke nodded, following Emori to a clearing in the woods where a bunch of kids were playing.

For some reason, that filled Clarke with joy. Not training, not fighting. Just playing. Being kids.

Emori left to go back to whatever she was doing, and Madi noticed Clarke.

Smiling, she waved, returning to talking with Reese.

Clarke’s smile grew, and she made her way back to camp, letting herself enjoy the moment.

The day passed with Clarke roaming the camp, meeting people who she apparently had already gotten to know in the past six weeks. The conversation was light, and no one seemed particularly worried about what Bellamy had told her about. Then again, it could’ve just been that people didn’t want to talk to her about it.

At the end of the night, as she made her way to the tent, she wondered how so much had changed. 131 years did that, she guessed. Plus six weeks.

Still caught up in her head, she noticed how easy it was for her to forget about Monty and Harper. To pretend that they were just off with Bellamy, helping. And for a split second, she wished that she didn’t get her memories back. But it was at that moment that she got a flash of a memory.

Of everyone around a fire, laughing and talking. Madi looked happier than Clarke had ever seen her, and if nothing else, she wanted to know of every moment that led up to it.

And, to be honest, even if she forgot for a second about Monty and Harper, the guilt and grief would always end up falling. Gravity and all.

Bellamy was pacing when she walked in, swipes of shaving cream still on his face.

She stood there for a few moments, belatedly remembering to speak.

“You loved Echo?” she said, the statement turning into more of a question.

Bellamy whipped around to her, his entire demeanor relaxing.

He let out gruffly, “We spent six years and seven days in an enclosed space together.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

He stared at her for a second, seeming to freeze up when she walked up to him, gently wiping away the remnants of shaving cream.

He explained, “Thought they’d take me more seriously if I didn’t have a beard. Murphy did always say I looked a little bit like a hobo with it.”

Clarke laughed, really laughed, at his words. “Yeah, well, Murphy isn’t the best judge of appearance.”

Once she was done, she didn’t step away, she didn’t tear her gaze from his, and it didn’t feel awkward the way she thought it would.

“Two thousand one hundred and ninety-nine days. That’s how much time you spent with her.” _Without me,_ her mind begged her to add. “And she betrayed you. She betrayed all of you. I’m sorry.”

Sadly smiling, he wiped away nonexistent sweat from her face, and _fuck_ if Clarke didn’t think about that day.

“Not your fault. She probably thought that because we weren’t together anymore there was no one to betray.”

She leaned a little into the hand that still rested on her cheek, letting her eyes grow heavy and a small yawn escape. “You weren’t? Together?”

Bellamy shook his head, dropping his hand from her cheek to reach for her hand. “You’re tired. You should sleep.”

Clarke noted the heavy-set need for sleep in his face. “Only if you come to bed, too. And, no, no floor for you.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but he simply nodded, letting her lead him towards the bed.

For a truly awkward second, Clarke wasn’t sure how to approach this. Did she let him get in bed first? She had to change, so did she tell him to turn around?

Bellamy seemed to think of this as normal, because he lied down on the bed, turning so he was facing away from her, presumably so she could change.

A smile tugged at her lips. She went to the makeshift closet and pulled out a spare shirt and a pair of pants, changing quickly and gently lying down on the bed, as far as she could from Bellamy.

Hours passed and neither of them moved. “I can’t sleep,” Clarke admitted.

He turned on his side to face her, and she turned on hers.

Even in the dark, she could distinctly make out his features.

“I just...what happened when we first landed on the ground?”

"Clarke..."

"Please?"

Bellamy sighed and began. “Not all of us went down at first. We landed on a beach, far from most civilization around here. Spent the night there. Which is when I found out that Echo tried to kidnap Madi. And then nearly killed you,” his words were small, his eyes hooded with a barely contained anger.

Clarke felt the need to explain. “Look, she was just trying to protect you. She was angry about how I had left you to die. And she had every right to-”

"She didn’t apologize to you, Clarke. You could’ve killed her, and you didn’t. _For me._ You knew I cared about her, and you didn’t want to hurt me, Clarke. She didn’t care about hurting me by killing you. She knew how much you meant to me, and she was still willing to kill you. Only at the request of a child did she stop. So no, in no way is it your fault, Clarke Griffin. Don’t try and apologize for it.”

She wasn’t sure what to say after, but he continued. “It was just an off-hand thing Zeke...Miles? Shaw? Still not sure what he prefers. But he just mentioned it off-handedly, like everyone knew about it. And apparently, everyone did. Except for me. So we were over. It was...awkward, to say the least. We had to trek to the mountains because that’s where Jordan said he had figured out was the best place to be. And that’s where we found the descendants of Eligius III. Amber helped us set up the camp at the outskirts of the capital. And that covers about a week. Nothing else really notable happened besides everyone else coming down to the ground. Now, try and sleep.”

“Fine, but can I meet Amber in the morning? I think...I think I’m getting some of my memory back. Just flashes, but...maybe if I meet her it’ll help?”

Hope flickered in his eyes, and he yet again wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer so that her head was tucked under his chin.

“Sure, Princess. Anything for you,” he mumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, see, look...I think Echo could be an interesting character, I just...she fits this role best. I promise it'll all make sense soon. This was mostly just Bellarke bonding and really me trying to show how Marper's death doesn't really feel *real* to Clarke, y'know?  
> Check me out on Tumblr, @jordanjaspermcgreen, if you feel like it!


	4. waking field

Clarke had been awake for a few hours now, wandering the camp yet again because Bellamy was getting a small unit of guards- soldiers?- ready. Even though no one here seemed to be a guard or a soldier anymore.

Sometimes when she was sitting on a bench, simply watching everyone talk and do the most mundane things, she was reminded of right after the Ring had landed on Earth. A hesitant lightness danced in the air, mixing with the joyous ringing of laughter, together the pair performing intricate movements.

Monty and Harper. This was them. Every breath anyone took. The air would be filled with reminders of them. Of what they had sacrificed.

Of what they had gained.

Clarke’s eyes landed on someone who she could only assume was Jordan, from his features to his mannerisms. She got up, still getting used to the way the ground shifted beneath the soles of her shoes. It was like landing on Earth all over again.

“Jordan?”

He turned around, not at all shocked or on edge. Clarke guessed that was a side effect of knowing the only people who could say his name were his parents for 27 years.

He smiled at her with a refreshing innocence. Six weeks couldn’t have been too harsh on him, and for that at least, Clarke was thankful.

He answered, “Hey Clarke! How have you been?”

It was only now that she was beginning to realize Bellamy probably didn’t tell many people about her forgetting everything for a reason. So maybe not telling any more people about it was a good idea.

“Good. I’ve been good. You?”

“I’ve been great. This new planet….it’s amazing. Mom and Dad would’ve liked it.” Though his smile dropped just a little at the mention of his parents, there was adoration and genuine happiness in his voice. His gaze flicked over to a girl and his smile grew wider. “I’m...gonna go talk to Chaaya. I’ll see you around, Clarke!”

Letting out a huff of laughter, she watched as he caught up to her, Chaaya grinning up at him when he did.

She took a step back, turning to go watch Madi for a bit.

Clarke focused on the way the soil shifted under the soles of her worn out boots, trying to memorize it the way she had memorized the movement of Earth. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend this was Earth. That she was still waiting for Bellamy to come back home to her. But of course the subtle differences in the air, the ground, the trees, _everything_ , was enough for Clarke to be jolted back to reality.

Resting against a tree, she watched Madi and a few other kids play soccer with Murphy.

Clarke didn’t remember ever playing soccer, but she knew somehow that she was absolutely horrific at it.

Images floated in her mind of Madi and her walking, in the near dark. Sliding into the mud, Clarke let her mind be overtaken by a tide of memories that seemed to flood into her mind with the first raindrop that landed on her skin.

_Clarke, I can’t- Madi, don’t!-._

Happy shrieks filled her mind, chorused by laughter, in conjunction with splatters of paint coloring the previously black and white memory.

Opening her eyes once her mind couldn’t find another shred of a memory, Clarke smiled just a little bit. If these were the only memories that returned, she could live with that. Everything else...well Bellamy would help with that. He was helping with that.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered that Madi tried to get Clarke to come inside with her, but her face was turned up, letting the drops of rain wash away _something_. Or maybe it was a flood of something else.

After a few moments, Madi ran inside with the last of the kids, leaving Clarke to sit beneath the tree as a storm blew in.

When the first strike of lightning lit up the sky, she quickly scrambled up, soaked and freezing. She dodged the last few people still outside, making sure all the kids were inside and such.

Clarke reached the tent just as Bellamy did, and they did an awkward dance for half a second to see who would go in first, but quickly they fell back into sync, walking in together.

Bellamy grabbed what looked like two towels, throwing one Clarke’s way.

As she was drying her hair, she asked, “Everything go okay with the...the rescue unit?”

“Yeah. Storm wasn’t unexpected, so I planned for them to head out tomorrow. Today was just organization, mostly. Picking the best people for the job. Stuff like that. You would probably have been helpful with that. You always did have a knack for knowing who we could trust.” Bellamy’s lips quirked up into what could’ve been a smirk but quickly softened into a smile.

She dipped her head down a little, sure the tips of her ears were red. Clearing her throat a little, she looked up...to a shirtless Bellamy Blake.

Bellamy was looking for a new shirt, and Clarke couldn’t help but quickly check him out. When she finally remembered to speak, he was already looking up to see if something was wrong.

Her blush spread to her entire face and she stammered for words.

“I...um...I know I’m not...I’m not exactly - uh - an asset, but I’ll do my best to help. I don’t exactly have a lot to do.”

He slipped on a shirt as he thought.

“You could...They want to move negotiations to the city. Home field advantage, I guess. Even though anywhere on this planet would give it to them. DIyoza’s doing her best to help, but with her due date inching closer and closer, she isn’t really able to travel to the city that often and I can’t do this alone. So...if I filled you in, would you feel good about us negotiating together? Like we did before...everything.”

A smile sprung up on Clarke’s lips. “Together. Yeah. I can...I can do that.”

She could see a little piece of sadness fall and happiness stitch itself back into its rightful place.

“Okay. I’ll...I think we have some suit thing that’s your size. We’ll go tomorrow?” There was a hesitancy on his face.

“That’s good. I’ll just make sure to tell Madi before we leave. Maybe not today since it seems like it’s gonna be raining all day.”

“Hm...yeah. We’ll drop by before we go. You gonna change?” Bellamy held out an old worn out blue shirt and a sweater, and there were pants on the bed.

She finally noticed that she was still in her soaking clothes. Clarke grabbed the clothes and tried to will herself to not blush more when he noticed the slight smirk on his face. She cleared her throat after a few moments.

“Oh. Um. Yeah, sorry,” Bellamy muttered, running a hand through his hair and turning around.

Clarke changed quickly, frowning a bit at the familiarity of the blue cloth. And then it hit her.

“You can turn around. And...Bellamy? Is this your shirt?”

She could’ve sworn in that moment both Bellamy and her transformed into strawberries.

He seemed to regain balance as he said, “Yeah. Um - you...the shirt got too small for me, and I have no idea when but at some point you accidentally wore it to sleep one night and now it’s basically yours.”

He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, grabbing an old copy of the Iliad that he seemed to have read many times before, judging from the broken spine and bent pages. Bellamy smiled at it, reverence in his eyes as he settled into his side of the bed.

“Where’d you get the Iliad? Does this planet have copies of it?”

“No...no...this is the one Gina gave me.”

Clarke knew that at some point, his voice had stopped wavering when Gina’s name came up, the same way Clarke stopped faltering whenever Finn or Lexa had come up.

She swallowed and whispered, “I never got to apologize for her death. I know she meant a lot to you. I can’t help but think my decisions played a part in that.”

“They did, Clarke. Your decisions did play a part in that. But so did mine. So did...so did Raven’s. And Monty’s -” His voice hitched. “- Everything played a part in Gina’s death. One thing I learned on the ring was that if I dwelled on how I could’ve changed things, I would never be happy. I guess I grossly underestimated my ability to be truly happy when I thought you were gone.”

She smiled sadly, grabbing what she assumed was her sketchbook from the little table, flipping through six weeks of drawings, finished and not, she didn’t even remember making before landing on a new page. Clarke settled in next to Bellamy, pencil in hand. She still couldn’t believe that she could just...pick up a _pencil._

It was those little things that reminded her that this was everything she was promised Earth would have been. A new kind of hope. But then she remembered. She wasn’t promised this. She was given an opportunity. Clarke hoped in the six weeks she forgot, she had done something to earn it.

At some point, through the small sounds of her pencil moving against paper and the flipping of pages, Clarke and Bellamy orbited closer and closer together, her head resting on his chest, where she could hear his heartbeat, so familiar that it became hers. She would vaguely register the way he would mutter something, speaking sometimes to himself, sometimes to her.

Déjà vu. Her brain registered the feeling just before it started to wind down, her eyes closing and the world becoming lost to her.

That was the feeling that lingered in her dreams, painted gold and pink. The feeling that lingered when she awoke to the golden morning light filtering in and encompassing her and Bellamy. The feeling that lingered as pink light joined as the second sun rose. The feeling that created an impression upon her nearly silent heart.

As her head started to catalog what it remembered of her dream, she let herself pretend this was another day where she would head to the river to go talk to Bellamy. But when her eyes opened, she saw Bellamy. Who was there. With her. She didn’t have to go to the river to talk to him. She didn’t have to wait to hear his voice again.

But this was one of the days where, as infinitely thankful as she was to have so many people she still cared about here, her heart stilled to a stop as it was far too fragile to beat, for fear that it would shatter.

Even the faint beating of Bellamy’s heart was too much. Unfolding herself from him, she took a shaky breath, standing up and muttering, “Hey, where’s that suit you were mentioning last night?”

Groggy voice and all, Bellamy replied, “Bottom of the cabinet-thing.”

Her heart stuttered a little, but it stayed put where it was as she grabbed the clothes and went outside, her feet moving of their own accord and landing her near a river after a few moments.

She tugged off Bellamy’s shirt, folding it and laying it gently on a rock and throwing the rest of her clothes next to it.

Clarke let the water wash over her, closing her eyes and submerging herself completely in it. The cold bite was a gentle reminder. Of what, she wasn’t sure. But it was a reminder nonetheless.

After around the third time she went down, she pulled herself out of the water, drying herself off and pulling on the suit. It was a little bit itchy, but Clarke would deal with it. Her hair had apparently grown enough for her to braid it, so she did, pulling on the flats that had been laying next to their bed in the morning.

Walking back to the camp, she mused how easy it was for her feet to remember where she was but not for her mind to remember _what_ or _why_ or _how_.

Her heart seemed to come back to life when she saw Bellamy, who was practically jumping. Which was ridiculous because it was so _early_.

A near instant calm settled over her discreet nerves when he smiled and put his hand out for her to take.

“Come on, Princess. Let’s go be diplomatic. But first let's go find the little princess. Tell her where her mom's gonna be for the day.”

She smiled fondly at the memories that came with his words, taking his hand and once again finding his pulse beating steadily just beneath his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo this is one of the last nice chapters for a bit :). A bunch of OCs are being introduced next chapter!
> 
> Hope you like it and thank you for readddinggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg.  
> Tumblr is @jordanjaspermcgreen if you wanna check me out on there!


	5. sleeping flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY I'M SUCH AN IRREGULAR UPDATER BUT HOPEFULLY THIS TIME I'LL ACTUALLY GET A STEADY UPDATING SCHEDULE

Clarke wrung her hands, her eyes flicking from the window to the driver to Bellamy whenever she needed a moment of calm. She could inch her hand closer just a bit, and his hand would be there to take hers. But Clarke refrained because the driver was giving her weird looks.

After about ten minutes in the car, Bellamy pressed a button that brought up a separation between the driver and them and he turned to her, running a hand through his hair and looking at her with a small smile on his face.

Clarke quirked an eyebrow, asking him silently what he was looking at.

“We need to go over the basics of everything that’s happened.” Clarke nodded, and Bellamy continued, “Before Echo kidnapped those people with some of the Azgedans, jeopardizing what little we had agreed on with the natives of Sanctum, we had agreed on a hundred houses, as long as we provided a list of all the people we believe would benefit from a short stint in a rehabilitation and assimilation center and a list of the people who had special skills. We...we made the list, but I just think you should go over it. Abby and...Octavia -” Bellamy paused for a moment, and Clarke inched her hand close enough so that he could take it if he needed. “And a few others. 

“They’re already in the center, and Miller and Jackson go to check on them once a week to make sure nothing suspicious is going on. But they might have more demands. For now, they’re just being a bit dodgy. But I think...I think we can work this out. So, who we’ve been talking to lately is Amber, who you saw for a moment when she visited Diyoza. Blonde, a little short, always wears her hair in a braided bun.

“There’s also Beatrice, Amber’s niece, but she’s pretty much more on the technical side of things, there to help Amber make sure there are resources and stuff.”

Clarke interrupted, “Um, who’s that girl, Chaaya? She isn’t one of our people, right?”

Bellamy shook his head. “No, she isn’t. She’s staying in the camp, making sure that we comply with their request for no violence and helping out with set up, and she helps teach everyone about some of the tech here, get people ready to face how different this society is.”

She nodded and gestured for Bellamy to continue.

“And then...then there’s Rafa. He’s a nightblood. He’s new. Rafa - this is actually the first time he’s joining negotiations. I’ve heard rumors of a nightblood association, but I’m not sure. We haven’t really discussed nightbloods recently.” Bellamy paused, taking a breath before adding, “They just think you were sick. If they know you lost your memory, they might try to use that as leverage so just...if you’re confused or thrown off-kilter, let me help, okay?”

“Of course, Bell.” The car stopped and Clarke got out of the car, waiting until Bellamy was by her side so she could take his hand. Her voice was barely a whisper as she looked at the buildings, far from what she expected. “Together?”

Bellamy didn’t answer, simply smiled at her and gently squeezed her hand, leading her towards the building in the center of the small town. It stood out, too many stories to count, whereas the rest of the buildings were only about three stories tall. Clarke had seen a building as tall as this in Polis, but this building was different. Nearly entirely glass and metal, she was sure. Just like in the movies she had watched with her father.

She saw kids and adults alike outside, speaking in multitudes of languages with the occasional English phrase thrown around in an accent that was foreign to Clarke's ear, seemingly a mix of many, many accents. 

Clarke was intrigued by this new world. And if she had decided that it was safe before Clarke forgot everything, then Clarke trusted herself. Trusted herself to have done research, to peek behind the pleasantries and see what secrets the government was hiding. And if Clarke was still negotiating to keep peace with these people, allow her own child, her mother, Bellamy, all her friends, her  _ people,  _ they were clearly what they seemed. Well-meaning people who truly wanted to lead peaceful lives. It bore a strong resemblance to Floukru. 

Clarke prayed that this ended well.

The inside of the building was vaguely familiar, and Clarke didn't have the same urge to explore that she would've if it had been the first time she had been there.

Just as they reached the floor they were meant to be on and Clarke was moving closer towards the elevator doors, Bellamy, from right next to her, muttered, “Also, they think we’re married. Don’t be surprised if they call you Mrs. Griffin-Blake.”

And then he was sweeping out the doors into what looked like an endless hall, leaving Clarke astonished and clumsily thinking her thoughts as she attempted to gracefully follow him to the room where Clake assumed they were meeting.

The short walk brought about a memory of the first negotiation.

_ Clarke and Bellamy finally got a moment to breathe from the non-stop negotiations, The rhythm they had resettled into of nearly being able to read each other’s minds. And then Beatrice said something. _

_ “So, Mr. and Mrs. Griffin-Blake, I was just wondering how many houses you think we’ll need?” _

_ She was shocked for barely a second, before answering her. And then they were back in the heat of negotiations. It took nearly an hour before everyone broke for lunch. _

_ Bellamy sat next to Clarke, muttering, “Should we correct them?” _

_ Clarke had food in her mouth, so she shook her head, swallowing before she answered, “Negotiations are going good, I think telling them would just make things awkward. We’ll find the right time to mention something. For now, try this-” she put up her spoon, full of something she thought was called...Jello? _

_ She smiled at Bellamy as he took a bite and nodded in agreement that it was good. _

_ “I think-” Bellamy was cut off by Beatrice saying Amber was ready to continue negotiations. _

And Clarke’s memory ended. It was the most vivid of anything she had remembered, and she was nearly able to ignore the fact that  _ she _ was the one who suggested that they not correct Sanctum’s people. 

Clarke was hit by a cool wall of air the moment she walked into the room, with only two other people in it. Amber and Beatrice immediately rose, and Clarke couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Beatrice’s frame.

Strawberry blonde hair, average height, not a lot of muscle mass. Clarke could take her. Amber on the other hand...Amber would require Clarke and Bellamy to work together. 

She immediately shook away the instinct to continue to evaluate Beatrice and Amber’s capabilities.

Amber smiled just a little, nodding her head in a greeting. 

“Clarke, Bellamy,” Beatrice said, sitting down before her aunt and pulling out papers, busying herself, clearly uncomfortable about something. Clarke could only assume it was because of what Amber was about to say.

“Well, there’s no point in beating around the bush, is there? We need to discuss some of the new stipulations some of my advisors and I have agreed on,” Amber said, the pace of her voice steady and unwavering.

Clarke wasn’t surprised, and it didn’t seem like Bellamy was either. She stepped forward, taking a seat before Amber could.

“Well…” she took the moment to pour herself a glass of water. “Bellamy and I have come prepared to negotiate.” Clarke didn’t miss the flicker of a smile flashing across Bellamy’s face that everyone but her would’ve missed. 

Bellamy sat down next to Clarke, and he said as Amber sat down, “We have. We understand that Echo’s actions -”

It was Beatrice who piped up this time. “She  _ took _ our people. People who were sick. Children. We don’t even know if they’re alive.”

“I know. And we know that what she did, the crimes she has committed along with some who we thought were our people, have made some of your people lose faith in us. Everyone deserves to feel safe, and we are willing to whatever it takes to reassure your people that we will bring them no harm. Echo doesn’t represent us. We want peace.” Bellamy’s voice didn’t waver for even a second. His jaw was set, and his eyes were hardened.

Amber sighed, pity in her eyes. “Okay then. First, we want you two, and the people you trust the most, to come to our annual Nocte Sanguine Ball. Clothes will be provided for you.”

Clarke nodded. “We can do that. It’s no problem. But that’s not all, is it?”

Beatrice shook her head sadly and the door opened behind them.

The man looked everyone up and down, his veins pulsing with jet black blood under his dark skin. Even still, the light shone off of him, and he swept in. 

He sat on the same side of the table as Beatrice and Amber, but a seat away, as if to separate himself.

“Rafa,” was the only introduction they got. He immediately took his briefcase and opened it up, taking out some papers and reading them over before he cleared his throat and began, “I am legal representation for the NAfPP, or, the Nightblood Association for Political Purposes. We ensure that the minority of the Nightbloods who actually present with dark blood aren’t marginalized and are represented in the government correctly. I understand there is a Nightblood among your group of...refugees.” His words were clearly chosen carefully.

Clarke was confused. Had they not told them that  _ she _ was a Nightblood? So Clarke spoke up. “Yes, we do. Me.”

He simply glanced up from his papers, disinterested. “A  _ real _ Nightblood.”

Clarke’s blood ran cold and she let Bellamy answer. “We do. But she’s just a child. And what business do you have with her?”

“We want her to take part in our summer program. She will be trained to become a valuable member of society.”

Clarke nearly spit out her words as she whispered, murder in her voice, “You mean you want to use her - Madi, my  _ daughter _ \- as a political pawn... _ if she so chooses. _ ” She was familiar with this tactic. Sons and daughters of political leaders on the ark were usually groomed to take power when they were old enough. A dynasty in all but name.

It was this moment that Clarke truly understood why losing so much of the six weeks on Sanctum was a problem. She had most likely learned about so much of the culture here. Met people and started to at least plant some roots. There was a nagging voice in her head that told her the information and connections would’ve come in handy then. She would have to rely on Bellamy.

But part of her didn’t trust him to tell her the whole truth.

Rafa was about to speak before Beatrice broke in, putting a hand lightly on Rafa’s arm. “I’m sorry. We didn’t know she was your child. We’ll, um, we’ll give you a few moments to discuss.”

Rafa looked as if he were about to protest, but Clarke could’ve sworn that Beatrice had stepped on his foot because pain was thrown onto his face for an instant and then he was standing up.

“Yes, we will. But this decision must be made quickly. My people are restless. Considering one of yours took one of ours, this is not very negotiable.”

They all stepped away to go out the doors, but Clarke slipped through all of them, anger boiling just beneath the surface as she stepped into a small hallway tucked away a few feet from the conference room. She leaned her head against the wall, only noticing Bellamy was next to her when she was enveloped in a hug. Clarke let Bellamy hold her, and she pulled away, determination on her face. 

“I’m not letting her be used. She already has the Flame -”

“Flame was destroyed by cryo. Doesn’t work anymore,” Bellamy muttered, quietly.

Clarke shook her head, for some reason not surprised. “Either way, I’m not gonna let her be a pawn in whatever scheme they have planned just because of the color of her blood.”

“Okay. I’m not gonna...I’m not gonna make you or ask you to sacrifice your family again. We’ll figure out something. We always do.”

“I don’t - I don’t want to be selfish. But I just...if we give Madi the choice, she’ll choose the one that helps her people. She shouldn’t have to make that choice again.”

Bellamy’s eyebrows furrowed and he stepped forward, his voice steady, anchoring her, “Hey. Anyone who doesn’t understand by now how much Madi means to you doesn’t deserve to have an opinion or a say on your choices regarding her. I’m sorry I thought I did. That wasn’t fair of me.” His voice quieted at the last few sentences.

Clarke swallowed away the fresh bout of betrayal that mixed with the old. “I think I have an idea. I just...I need you to trust me. I...pieces of information are coming back slowly and I think I can fix this while making sure Madi is safe.”

He stared at her and nodded, clearly wanting to ask for information. “Okay. I trust you. Are you ready to go back in or do you need a minute?”

She took a deep breath, gathering herself. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh.....Plot! I'm trying to focus mainly on the political aspects for this, cuz I'm sick of fighting, and of course, there's the Echo sub-plot to deal with, but that's for later ; ) 
> 
> Thanks for reading! It always makes me happy to see people are enjoying my writing!


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